


baby, you should stick around

by LittleTayy



Category: His Dark Materials (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Breaking Up & Making Up, F/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Canon, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22461094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleTayy/pseuds/LittleTayy
Summary: Asriel is still grinning, his laughter joining her own as he rolls off her and onto his side. He doesn’t go far however, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close as if he never wants to be parted. Marisa smiles into the embrace, wide and genuine, as she throws a leg over his hip, tugging him even closer. There’s barely a centimetre between their bodies, they’re touching skin to skin, their hearts beating in sync and Marisa’s never been more in love with him than in that moment.
Relationships: Lord Asriel/Marisa Coulter
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	baby, you should stick around

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended to be about gun-foreplay and ended up with, startlingly, no guns involved. Title comes from the song 'Dark Doo Wop' by MS MR. 
> 
> Warning: This story does involve depictions of self-harm through daemons. If this may be triggering or uncomfortable for you, please do not continue to read.

**baby, you should stick around**

* * *

“ _Oh, my…_ ” 

She is breathless and panting, clinging tightly to Asriel, as she tries to catch her breath. His head is buried against her neck, pressing sloppy slow kisses to her skin and Marisa is sure she’s never been happier. Slowly, Asriel pulls his head back, his blue eyes finding hers as they grin together, Marisa’s heart fluttering at the mere sight of him. 

Both her hands find his face, pulling him into a languid, dirty kiss; all tongue and nipping teeth. His hands move slowly over her body, grasping at every inch of naked flesh he can, pulling her close and wrapping an arm securely around her waist. In a move far more gentle then they are both used to, he lowers her down onto the bed, pressing her into the warm tangled sheets and comfortable bedspread. 

Her hands are in his hair as he hovers over her. Their eyes meet and Marisa goes breathless at the look Asriel is giving her. His large hand smoothes sweaty strands of hair from her cheek, in a gentle, sweet gesture that has Marisa keening into his touch. “You’re magnificent,” he tells her between kisses, meaning the words so wholeheartedly Marisa can’t help but laugh. 

Asriel is still grinning, his laughter joining her own as he rolls off her and onto his side. He doesn’t go far however, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close as if he never wants to be parted. Marisa smiles into the embrace, wide and genuine, as she throws a leg over his hip, tugging him even closer. There’s barely a centimetre between their bodies, they’re touching skin to skin, their hearts beating in sync and Marisa’s never been more in love with him than in that moment. 

She says nothing because they do not _talk_ about it. Their feelings, because she knows he loves her too, are not words that are ever uttered to each other. Distantly, she can hear their daemons purring at each other, no doubt snuggled up together just as she and Asriel are. She does not bother to look at them. 

His hand is tracing patterns on her back slowly, his eyes gazing at her intently, as if he is thinking hard about something. Marisa sighs pleasantly, pressing her lips to his in a languid kiss, hoping to chase his thoughts away. She wants to stay wrapped up in him for as long as she can; soon she will have to return home to her husband, a thought that makes her shudder. 

“What is it?” He asks lowly, as they part from their kiss and he traces a finger up her rapidly cooling spine. 

Marisa sighs, back arching at the touch a little, lips forming the slightest of pouts as she looks up at him. She doesn’t want to mention Edward, it’ll surely ruin the mood and she’s had far too good of a day with Asriel for that. So instead she presses her palm against his chest, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his neck. 

“I wish I didn’t have to leave,” she murmurs against his skin. She pulls back then, more completely and rests back against the bed, an arm thrown above her head as she gazes at Asriel before looking up at the ceiling. “I wish I did not have to leave _you_ ,” she whispers quietly, not meeting his eyes. 

This is the closest she’s ever come to admitting her feelings out loud. Marisa can’t bear the thought of speaking them into the world, lest she make them too real. If she didn’t utter them, they couldn’t hurt her. 

Asriel watched Marisa closely, his hands holding her body close to his own, keeping them connected. He shifted a little, pressing over her body and pressing kisses to her cheek, jaw and neck slowly, comforting her. Her conflict was obvious and despite himself, all he wanted to do was make things better for her. 

“Then don’t,” he breathes, deadly serious about his words. “Stay here. Leave Edward. Be my wife,” he purred against her ear, nipping at her earlobe between words. 

Marisa scoffs, digging her nails against his shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous Asriel,” she whispers, shaking her head, eyes still focused upwards. 

It was the curse of love. He’d found more and more that her happiness and pleasure were becoming more important to him than ever before. His hand settled along her neck, fingers stroking lightly, catching her attention and making her look up at him curiously. 

He leant in, their kisses slow and unhurried as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close. “I love you,” he breathes between kisses, their foreheads touching and their bodies tangled together, as if they were the only two people in the world. 

Marisa froze, her heart skipping a beat and panic shooting through her as the words hung between them. “What?” she gasped out, pulling back from the kiss and looking at him with wild, alarmed eyes. 

It seems however, that Asriel doesn’t read her reaction quite correctly. “I said that I love you Marisa,” he replied, the words confident and unashamed and Marisa can’t bear to hear it. 

Her hands slip from around his neck, down to his chest and push him away in a flurry. She scrambles up and away from him, eyes wild and panting, though this time not from pleasant exertion. “Why would you say that?” she snaps out lowly, her Monkey moving quickly to her side, feeling her panic and fear. 

“Because it is true,” Asriel snaps out, not angry but shocked. He’s sitting up now, running a hand through his hair as he looks at her in confusion. She looks wild, with her eyes wide and panicked and hair a tangled mess falling around her naked shoulders. His brows furrow and he leans forward, reaching a hand out to clasp hers and pull her back to him but she swats his hand away. 

“Don’t!” Marisa sneers, practically tumbling off his bed, just to get away from him. “You...you shouldn’t _say_ those things,” she hisses, as she turns now, frantically searching for her clothes as her Monkey looks between them with agitation and she finally pulls her undergarments and silk slip on roughly. 

Her heart is hammering and she feels like she can’t breathe. Her Monkey reaches out for her hand and before she can even think about what she’s doing, she’s backhanded him back against the bed. Her Golden Monkey lets out a cry and a gasp escapes her, her own cheek stinging with pain. 

“Marisa!” Asriel all but shouts, voice gruff as he takes in the scene. He’s off the bed in a shot, wrapping her up in his arms and pulling her back tight against his chest. He nuzzles into her hair, breathing hotly against her ear as he speaks again, voice commanding. “Stop, enough. Calm _down_ Marisa.” Stelmaria is by the bed now, trying to comfort lick at a cowering Monkey, he bats her snout away. 

Marisa struggles against his arms, shaking her head, an elbow trying to connect with his ribs, to release his hold. He’s got her too securely however and instead, she rakes her nails over his hand and up his forearm, leaving deep red scratches etched onto his skin. He swears, pulling his hand away out of instinct but it’s enough time for Marisa to pull out of his grasp. 

She lunges for her skirt, pulling it on hastily. “I shouldn’t...you shouldn’t have-'' she tries to speak but there are tears spilling out over her cheeks and she shakes her head instead, eyes avoiding his. Instead she turns on her heels and pushes out of his room, her Monkey following after her quickly, as she starts descending the stairs. 

Asriel takes a moment to pull on pants, casting an infuriated glance towards Stelmaria before following his lover out of the room. He catches up to her as she is slipping on her shoes in the foyer. Her Monkey is prowling around her, keeping out of kicking distance, as he looks up at Stelmaria with longing. 

“Marisa...what’s happened?” Asriel asked, watching as she gathers up her coat and as she reaches for her bag, he snaps a hand around her wrist. 

He pulls her to him roughly, other hand coming up to cinch around her chin, fingers digging into her pale skin tightly, forcing her to look him in the eye. He is angry and annoyed and quite frankly, isn’t sure what had just happened. One moment they had been happy in post-coital bliss and the next, she had been a frenzied storm. 

The change had happened so quickly, there could be only one explanation but it was not one Asriel wanted to think about. Instead, he focused on his feral lover, her expression shifting from panic to a practiced indifference. If he didn’t know her better, if he couldn’t see the turmoil in her bright blue eyes, he might have been scared at how easily her demeanour could change. 

Marisa took a breath, not resisting as her lover held her tightly. She settled a polite smile onto her features, her eyes meeting Asriel’s; the heel of one of her shoes pointedly pressing into her Monkey’s tail to keep him quiet and still. “This arrangement has run its course, Asriel,” she starts, sounding almost bored as the words she didn’t believe in slipped past her lips. “I don’t think we should see each other again.” 

“What?” Asriel exclaims brusquely, dropping his hands from her body and taking a step back. His brows are knitted in confusion and it hurts Marisa so much that she almost takes the words back. 

“You heard me, Asriel. This...affair is over,” Marisa tells him coldly, voice tipped with venom as she speaks. She sneers at him, taking a step back before he tries to touch her again; she doesn’t think she could reject him once more. 

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous Marisa,” Asriel snaps, Stelmaria growling beside him. They present quite the powerful pair and it takes everything in Marisa not to launch herself back into his arms and beg for his forgiveness. 

But she couldn’t. She could not let herself get swept up any more with Asriel. Not when he was so blasé about admitting his love for her. Didn't he know that would change _everything_? 

“I’m not,” she replies sharply, eyes moving about the foyer before finally settling on Asriel. “I am serious. You seem to take this as something _more_ than it is. You’ve let your _feelings_ get in the way and frankly, I don’t feel the same,” Marisa sneered, the lie burning in her throat as she spoke it. “I am done with you, Lord Asriel.”

The anger is plain to see on his face and for a moment, she wonders if he’ll hit her. Instead, he growls, almost as if Stelmaria has taken over his vocal chords for a moment. “You think I could love an adulterous whore?” Asriel growls, looking at her with barely put upon disgust. The words taste foul in his mouth. 

Marisa tenses at the words, glaring at her lover but refusing to say anything in rebuttal. She’d known that this would happen and despite the longing looks Stelmaria and her Monkey were sharing, she snatched up her bag and turned away from him. She pulls on her coat as she heads for his front door, a hand running haphazardly through her hair, trying to tame it into something respectable as she pulls the door open. 

She hesitates for only a moment, waiting, _hoping_ for Asriel to call her back, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go. But he doesn’t. So she steps out of his home, heart breaking and not daring to look back at her now ex-lover. 

And though it is the broad daylight of the afternoon, she cares nothing about the possibility of being seen, tears spilling down her cheeks. 

* * *

By the third week of no communication from Marisa, Asriel begrudgingly accepted that their entanglement was truly over. He had, despite himself, been holding out hope that Marisa would calm down or come to her senses. So desperate had he gotten, he'd even entertained for an hour or two, the idea of going to her home to shake some sense into her, Edward Coulter be damned.

Stelmaria had been firmly and stoically against the plan and later when he'd been thinking clearly, he was grateful for her prevention. Impulse control in his personal life was not always his strong suit. The fact he'd been embroiled in an eight months long affair with a married woman was proof enough of that. 

However, just because he told himself that he accepted they were over, it didn’t mean he was happy about it. He was moodier than usual, stomping around and getting into arguments on a near daily basis. Even Thorold, his trusted man-servant was hesitant to be around him; doing so only when he must. It was clear to anyone that encountered Asriel Belacqua in the weeks and months that followed their separation, that he was at his worst. 

* * *

Marisa sat sullenly at her desk, research papers and books spread out in front of her and her Golden Monkey by the door, back facing her. She glares at the golden orange fur, the urge to hurl a paperweight at his back making her hand itch, fingers flexing over the blown-glass monkey. She’d wanted to send him completely away, out of the room and out of her sight but Edward was home and she didn’t want him stumbling across her daemon so far from her. 

Ten weeks had passed by since she'd ended her affair with Asriel and by all accounts she was not handling it well. The bastard had not chased after her, had not sought her out and in her heartbroken rage; she'd found it a clear sign of his lies. The rage tingled underneath her skin, hands clenching and unclenching with excess energy. 

He didn't _love her_. And he didn't want her. He'd probably already forgotten all about her, another pretty young thing attached to his side. The very thought of it infuriated her. He'd worked his way into her heart and her life and then he'd gone and ruined it all. Her hand clenched tightly around the paperweight before hurling it suddenly at her daemons back. 

The Golden Monkey let out a cry as the heavy glass connected with his back. He shrieked, turning around to whimper at Marisa in pain. He looked hateful and the very sight of her traitorous daemon had her practically shaking in her seat. 

She collapsed out of her chair, knees hitting the floor heavily beside her desk, summoning her Golden Monkey to her side. The bastard Monkey was hesitant but Marisa glared until he was sat up straight beside her. Her hand grasped viciously for a hold along the Monkey’s back, delicate fingers twisting into the fur, tugging painfully. 

Marisa could feel the pain in her own body, but stayed on her knees, hand firmly on her Monkey. He whimpered and cried out, Marisa simply gasping as tears pooled in her eyes and the pain shot white hot through her. Her eyes found her daemons face scrunched up in pain and dug her fingers in deeper, harder, pulling at the fur until her fingers and knuckles ached. 

She focused on her pain, letting out a cry as she finally released her hold on the Golden Monkey. He scampered away quickly, back to the door, cowering as he glared at her. Marisa was breathing heavily, chest heaving and tears staining her cheeks as she took a moment, while the pain she’d felt slowly receded. 

Her hands wiped away her tears hurriedly, suddenly hearing her husband calling for her. She pushed herself upwards, smoothing out her dress and fixing her hair. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a small, pleasant smile on her face and made her way out of her study and towards her husband. 

* * *

The Arctic Gala was a premiere event in the social lives of Scholars and London Society alike, and Marisa Coulter was delighted to be attending with her husband Edward, as she had the last three years. It was the most glamorous event the Royal Arctic Institute held and many of their members and Scholars would be in attendance and Marisa had worried for several days after receiving the invitation about the possibility of seeing Lord Asriel at the Gala. 

She had eventually come to the conclusion that he would not be there. In the previous three years, he’d attended only last years Gala and according to his track record with society events, she doubted he’d be making a consecutive appearance. The idea simultaneously calmed her and upset her; they had not seen each other in three months and she cursed Asriel for the fact her broken heart had yet to heal. 

Marisa hated that he had such a hold on her, making her feel such things without even being present. It felt as if he’d infected every part of her; mind, body and soul. Her heart still ached for him and she loathed him for it. It had become harder for her to pretend since they, _she_ , had ended their affair and only a few weeks ago she’d almost been careless in her words during an argument with Edward; she’d locked her Monkey out onto the balcony as punishment. 

As always however, she slowly but surely hid her true feelings away and as she and Edward entered the Gala, Asriel was surprisingly far from her mind. Her dark cobalt blue dress, silky and temptingly cut, draw the eyes of the other guests almost as soon as they walk in; her Golden Monkey strolling along beside her and Edward’s daemon perched on his shoulder. Marisa knows the image they present, has been cultivating it for years now but the soft, enchanting smile on her lips falters, as they find their seats and she catches a glimpse of a snow leopard. 

Her brow creases with worry, eyes moving over the ballroom anxiously, hoping that she’d simply _mistaken_ someone else’s daemon for Asriel’s. She reaches for a glass of wine almost immediately, taking a sip as she convinces herself that it hadn’t been Stelmaria she saw at all. Unfortunately, a shadow falls on their table and as she looks up she almost chokes on her gulp of wine. 

“Lord Asriel!” Her husband exclaims jovially, seemingly pleased to see the other man. Marisa doubted he’d be so pleased if he knew all the things Asriel had done to her. 

Her Golden Monkey is flustered, the longing clear to them both but she wraps a hand around his fur, keeping him firmly in place. She would not allow him to trot on over to Stelmaria, looking like a lovesick fool. She would not give Asriel the satisfaction. 

“Edward, a pleasure to see you again,” Asriel replied gruffly, extending his hand to shake as he deliberately ignored Marisa by her husband’s side. He’d known, when he’d accepted the invitation, that there would be every chance he’d be seeing Marisa and her husband; but he had not expected to be seated with them. Stelmaria was not happy but there was unfortunately nothing he could do. 

Edward grinned, a hand settling on Marisa’s back as Asriel sat down. “You remember my wife, don’t you? Marisa. Almost as clever as you,” Edward continued, introducing them with a chuckle. 

“Of course, pleasure to see you again too, Mrs. Coulter,” Asriel bit out, trying to keep the disdain from his voice. 

He shook her hand, letting his eyes linger over her as he did so. She looked stunning. She always did but the dark blue silk of her dress and her perfectly curled hair made him want to reach out and touch her. She looked utterly irresistible and he wanted to whisk her away into a cloak room and have his way with her. Stelmaria growled beside him, reminding him exactly of why they wouldn’t. 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Marisa replied, trying not to sound breathless as their hands touched. It was ridiculous that the mere touch of his hand was producing such an affect on her; she wanted to claim witchcraft or enchantment but knew it simply wasn’t true. Asriel had always had that effect on her. 

After their initial greetings, Asriel and Marisa both tried astutely to avoid being drawn into any other discussions with each other. Thankfully, their table was a lively one and by the time the last course was served they’d barely said more than a handful of words to each other. Even so, their close proximity to each other had both of them on edge, the tension between them increasing as the drinks flowed and their daemons gravitated slowly together. 

The last of the dessert plates had been cleared away and couples had made their way towards the dance floor, drinks and merriment flowing. Asriel resisted the urge to _sulk_ as Edward took Marisa’s hand and guided her towards the dance floor. He buried his scowl behind his drink, Stelmaria trying to reason with him that there was no cause for him jealousy but they both knew it wasn’t true. 

His hand tightened around his glass as he watched Marisa kiss her husband, downing the rest of the liquor and letting it burn his throat as he pushed up from his seat. He’d had enough, he couldn’t stand to watch Marisa and her husband playing at being happy and in love. Asriel was probably the only person, besides Marisa, that knew the truth. 

He strode through the ballroom, Stelmaria ahead of him and they made their way towards the cloak room. He never should have come, he grumbled to his daemon, Stelmaria reminding him she had try to warn against it. He simply grunted in reply, a hand coming up to loosening his bowtie from around his neck, pushing into the cloak room roughly. 

He moved in a strop through the coats and furs hanging up all around, finding his own with ease and cursing the extravagance of the other guests in attendance. Just as he’d pulled his coat off it’s hanger, he heard the doors slide shut and lock with a click; his brows furrowed as he whipped around to see who had locked him in. 

The woman before him shouldn’t have surprised him. Marisa was standing, leaning really, back against the closed sliding doors, her hands behind her back. She looked a pretty picture, with the faint light streaming in behind her and her silk dress falling like a stream over her body. As much as Asriel loathed her in that moment, he couldn’t help but want her either. 

“Asriel-” she began but Asriel was having none of it. 

“Out of the way, Marisa,” Asriel growled, taking several intimidating steps forward. His eyes found hers and as he got closer, he realised that she was tipsy. It seemed he hadn’t been the only one inhaling copious amounts of liquor to get through the night. 

He stopped just out of reach of her touch, though he could feel the heat radiating off of her. From the corner of his eye he could see Stelmaria circling the Golden Monkey, getting closer and closer to him. Asriel wanted to reach out and touch her; to move her out of the way or to pull her closer, he didn’t know. His hand closed into a fist as he kept it deliberately by his side. He was not going to give in to the sinful woman. 

“ _Asriel_ ,” Marisa breathed, her heart beating fast as she gazed up at him through her lashes enticingly. “I...I-missed you,” she drawled out slowly, catching his gaze and hoping to convey the sincerity behind her words. She knew it was stupid, throwing herself at the man like this but the moment he’d sat down across from her earlier, she’d wanted nothing more. She hated how true the words were, that she missed him and she could only hope that he wouldn’t turn her away. 

“Move!” He growled, a hand slamming down on the sliding glass doors beside her head. He was not going to do this with her, he was not going to fall for her charms once again. He was _done_ with her; just as she had been with him. 

Marisa startled, mouth dropping open in surprise, chest rising and falling heavily. It was ridiculous how turned on she was by Asriel; the warmth spreading low in her stomach and her eyes dropping to his lips. If she wanted this to go anywhere, she would have to apologise, even if the thought sent an unpleasant shudder through her spine. 

“Please,” she murmured, reaching a hand out to stroke over his chest, surprised when he pressed forward a little instead of pulling away. “I...should have _never_ said those things to you Asriel. These past months have been...torturous without you. I know you still want me too. I can see it,” she whispered, voice smooth and honeyed, her head tilting upwards so her eyes met his. 

Asriel scowled at her, letting his eyes move her slowly, taking her in. His hand moved from the door, to wrap around her hair, giving a short sharp yank. She let out an audible gasp, body arching towards him involuntarily. “Why should I believe you?” He asked gruffly, stepping closer and pressing his body into hers. “Huh? All you do is _lie_ Marisa,” he spat out at her, his other hand settling tightly over her hip. 

A smile blossomed on her lips then as she smoothed her hand up his chest, to wrap around the back of his neck. She tugged him forward, planting a heated kiss to his lips. She groaned into it as he deepened the kiss, her nails biting into the soft skin at the back of his neck encouragingly. 

“I love you, Asriel. You’re all I can think about, even when we’re apart,” she admitted in a rush, panting breathlessly against his lips. 

“Marisa,” Asriel groaned, his eyes closed as he shook his head. 

“I need you Asriel, please,” Marisa whimpered, pulling him into another kiss. 

Asriel kissed her back eagerly, tugging her forward to press her body against his. Her arms slipped up around his neck, clutching at him tightly as she moaned into the kiss. He knew this was a bad idea, could feel it in his bones but he knew, even Stelmaria wouldn’t put a stop to it this time. He tugged at Marisa’s hair once more, smirking smugly at the pleased whimper she let out. 

He dropped his hand from her hair onto her wrist then, tugging her further into the cloak room. It was hardly the place for them to reconnect but as Asriel pressed Marisa against the back wall, a hand groping at a silk covered thigh, neither seemed to care. He kissed her passionately, his hands moving to pull her dress up, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist as he did so. 

Her hands clung to his shoulders, legs tightening around him and moaning against his mouth as she felt him hot and hard between her thighs. One of her hands slipped down between them, finding his belt buckle and unbuckling it eagerly before slipping her hand inside his pants. Asriel groaned against her neck, teeth nipping at her delicate skin as his hips canted forwards. 

“I missed you, I missed you,” Asriel murmured against her, the hand not holding her up, slipping between her own thighs. 

For several long moments, their bodies moved together but both were aware that they had limited time. The Gala was still going on and Edward Coulter would no doubt notice the disappearance of his wife sooner rather than later. But neither of them, in the moment, could bring themselves to care. 

“Asriel,” Marisa moaned hotly against his ear, as he finally pressed into her, slowly and surely. Her hips rocked against him, missing the feel of him inside her and as her eyes fell closed; Marisa had never felt more complete.


End file.
